


Escaping

by carriedon_awolfsback



Category: Ghost (Sweden Band)
Genre: F/M, Female Reader, POV Second Person, chaotic good background ghouls, custom request fic, fancy hotel sex, love at first sight vibes, post-show sex, reader has escaped a bad home/cult situation, romantic, still dirty though, x reader fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2018-11-22
Packaged: 2019-08-26 17:15:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16685773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carriedon_awolfsback/pseuds/carriedon_awolfsback
Summary: You’re so close to the start of a new life, you can taste it, but you can still scarcely believe you got away to begin with. In just a couple of months you’ve gone from running scared and hiding behind a queue in a record store, to being chauffeured across town by a mystery driver with unnaturally firey eyes, clutching a red-enveloped letter to your heart, heading for what could be the best night of your life.(This story is a custom piece for @desire-umbra on Tumblr! It can be read as a reader insert without that exact context, but many features are tailored to the mun’s requests and describe how Dèsirè ends up at the Church and under Copia’s, ahem, special protection. The band events referred to are based heavily on the London HMV record signing event and the Royal Albert Hall 2018 ritual.)





	1. Chapter 1

It had felt like years, decades of waiting and pretty promises, although it had only been a few months at most since he’d grabbed you by the arm, mismatched eyes wide, and told you to repeat your plea for help. They’d been months in limbo, holed up in a safehouse in the city, making ends meet with part-time work here and there while waiting for him to make good on what he’d said after you stumbled into that record store queue- heart hammering, scarcely believing you’d finally slipped your chaperones, looking for a crowd to vanish into. Brothers and Sisters of the Ministry stopped by the place to lend their support every so often, helping to scrub away the paper trail of your previous life, making paperwork conveniently vanish and new documents appear; there was always someone just a call away even in the small hours and you were grateful for that... but they weren’t him.

 

His messages were short and sporadic by necessity and came only with particularly trusted visitors. The much longer missive that had reached you with news of the London ritual’s planning was one of the only material things you treasured in the safehouse; half the time you kept it folded tightly in your pocket, ready to be pulled out and savoured whenever the anxiety surged… or some of the choicer promises, hand-penned in small private cursive, re-read in the restless small hours of the night.

 

But today’s short note was the only thing that could be more exciting than that.

 

_ Tomorrow at last _ , it read.  _ I will send a car _ .

 

Your heart leapt inside the cage of your chest, which suddenly felt far too small, too tight, and you struggled to keep your composure in front of the Sister who had delivered it and was now brewing a tea for you in the little kitchenette. Although she likely already knew the gist of the message and knew well its source- she flashed you a knowing smile as you bit your lip to keep from exclaiming something. 

 

This was happening. This was  _ really happening _ . You hadn’t quite let yourself fully believe it, even up til now- it was too overwhelming to look at head-on, taking every day as it came as you currently were.

 

You were going to be free, and safe form the old false church’s grasp, for the first time in years, and it would be with  _ him _ .

 

***

 

The knock at the door came at 5pm on the Sunday. You checked the peephole fastidiously- you’d come too far, were too close to escape now, to drop your caution for even a second in your excitement. Waiting outside was a young woman with a mess of red hair clad in the customary smart black of the Sisters’ more incognito outfits, a couple of heavily-embellished silver lapel pins of the inverse cross the only signals of her purpose. She wore a battered leather jacket over her shoulders and jiggled a ring of keys- some looked like door keys, a couple looked like they fit old heavy locks, and at least one was a car door clicker- in one hand. Satisfied, you cracked the door open to admit her. 

 

She slipped in like she owned the place with a wink and a canine grin. “All packed? All ready? You lucky devil.” You hadn’t met this girl before, but she evidently knew all about your position. Up close, you could see that one of her pins bore the detailed insignia and colours of the Cardinal’s personal seal. What that meant about her rank, you couldn’t guess, but it must have meant he had personally entrusted her with you, which was a comfort.

 

“All packed,” you agreed slightly shyly, nudging the small full suitcase you’d left in readiness in the hallway with your toe. There hadn’t been much to pack; you’d come here with little, and were moving on with not much more. But that felt like a necessity. A cleansing. There would be new things out the other side.

 

“I’d give you a moment to say bye to the house, but trust me, you’ll have forgotten all about this place by tomorrow.” Her expression took on a soft look despite her still-playful tone. “I did this whole rigmarole myself not so long ago.” Then she snapped back to that grin. “But not with such a personal touch to proceedings, eh?”

 

You couldn’t help but grin as you started to roll out, waiting for her to finish securing the lock on the house with one of her mysterious keys. Her bluster toed the line between funny and aggravating, but in this moment she was your ride across no man’s land to safety, and you were well inclined to see her as the best chaperone a nervous soul could wish for.

 

“Allow me,” she said once you reached the sleek black car she’d left rakishly across the drive, lifting the case of your worldly possessions into the boot. She patted the roof as she pulled open the door; this thing was a right-hand drive with a foreign number plate. “You can ride shotgun, or you can hop in back and we’ll go off limo chauffeur style, whatever makes you feel glam.” You laughed at that again, and opted for the back seat.

 

***

 

The hotel was right beside the concert hall on the main road, the entrance laden with the finery you’d expect of the area- spiral-clipped topiary, flags adorning the canopied front doors, a long-coated attendant in a top hat on the door who took one look at the keycard your driver flashed him and immediately swept up your meagre luggage and ushered you gently inside to the lifts. There was an awful lot of marble, and polished walnut, and gold edging about the place- this was no overnight motel.

 

After what felt like a long but smooth ride in the elevator, you stepped out of the doors and onto plush red corridor carpet. Doors were spaced evenly along the corridor, interspersed with gold-framed mirrors and paintings; above you, even the lighting was embedded in miniature chandeliers that dripped shorts lines of crystalline beads. You tried not to ogle, so as not to seem wildly unsophisticated in front of your luggage-bearer, but the other woman openly whistled and pointed. “I never get sick of seeing these kind of places,” she said cheerfully, nudging the gentleman valet with her elbow. “You ever get mate’s rates on these rooms for a date night, man?”

 

He came admirably close to keeping a poker face. “Perhaps on my last day before retirement I will, ma’am.”

 

The door that accepted your keycard was at the furthest end of the corridor, slightly elevated even from the rest. You felt a burst of nerves inside for some reason as it swung open, but they were quickly allayed by what you saw. The room was wide and square, and at the far side you could see the open doorway to a similarly generous bathroom, walls hung with incredibly soft-looking powder-blue towels and two matching gowns and again showing an abundance of black- and blue-streaked marble and gilt taps. A large, dark-stained pine wardrobe and dresser with elegant carved decoration lined one wall. The centrepiece, though, was the canopied king-sized bed, which was laden with red, white, black and and gold throws and scattered pillows that you could practically see the outrageously luxurious thread count of. You brushed a hand over them reverently- there were sheets of silk in there as well. The thick pile carpet was adorned with an extra sheepskin rug either side of the bed that was like stepping onto a cloud; the bedside table held a basket of fruits and small wrapped chocolates on one side and a bucket, presumably for something to be kept on ice, was propped on a sizable chiller cabinet on the other. The whole thing exuded warmth, smoothness, expense, luxury… and it was yours to use.

 

“This is incredible,” you breathed, barely really registering that you were speaking aloud.

 

“Not too bad huh? Livable.” Your helper left the case she’d taken back from the valet atop the dresser for you to unpack- such as there was any need to- at your leisure. Her tone was light but she was itching at her forehead, frowning as though trying to rub away a headache. “Hey, sorry, do you mind if I just-”

 

She shuddered, head down, and her skin  _ changed _ .

 

You stared slack-jawed as her form altered before your eyes. It didn’t look quite real, like a movie special effect- her skin greyed and her fingernails lengthened and blackened; a black tail snaked over the waistband of her suit trousers. Bony curved horns pushed through her messy hair, looking for all the world like a costume headband; you’d never have believed they weren’t just that if you hadn’t seen them sprout yourself.

 

“You never seen that before? Sorry.” She still grinned, and if the row of exposed teeth before had been sharp-looking, the ones she showed now were like knives. “It aches after a while, keeping the glamour on, it’s like wearing high heels.”

 

“You’re one of the ghouls.” You immediately felt stupid, and kind of rude. Obviously she was. You had seen the pictures of them, and heard the visiting Brothers and Sisters refer to them, but… you hadn’t expected to come face to face with one, unglamoured and alone, right away. She looked and sounded relaxed enough, but those claws and teeth... really were sharp.

 

“That’s the one, hun.” She actually wagged her tail slightly. “I’m not a band ghoul, though. There’s a whole lot more of us behind the scenes.”

 

“Is this what you all look like?” You tried not to stare so intensely, but she didn’t look bothered. “When we’re not looking?”

 

“More or less. Some of us have different horns, different tail tips, that kind of thing.” She inclined her head. “You can touch ‘em if you like, but it’s not that exciting, it’s just like a cow horn to be honest.”

 

“Thank you, but, uh, I won’t go grabbing.” Fascinating and unbelievable as they were, you weren’t quite prepared to touch the freshly-erupted prongs. “I thought you said… you went through a safehouse too..?” The unspoken question hung in the air; you weren’t sure if it was bad manners to ask someone at what point and how they stopped being human.

 

“I did.” She shrugged, scuffing at one sharp, elongated ear with her claws. “I wasn’t too great at being human. Kinda sickly. Kinda spindly. Once I figured out this was option, I mean...” she waved her hands at herself. “It’s not for everyone, for sure, but it was a pretty sick deal for me.”

 

Your head whirled a little bit. “Well hey, I’m glad it worked out,” you said weakly, like you were just chatting about someone’s choice to move to the other side of town, or something. She flicked her tail contentedly, like a cat.

 

“What I’m gonna have to do now is love you and leave you, I’m afraid. I gotta get some stuff done at the venue.” As she spoke her body rippled back to its human visage; she paused and grimaced a little as those savage teeth receded. “You could hop into the queue now, if you like- it’s perfectly safe for you to be out and about in the area. We got eyes everywhere tonight. No need to worry.” She swept her undone jacket up either side of her her in her hands, like wings. “I wasn’t even all the way unglamoured just then; we’ve got some other tricks up our sleeves when we go all the way. You say the word, death from above. Promise.”

 

“Thank you.” You swallowed the lump in your throat at the wild offer. Christ, how long had it been since you’d been able not to worry? “I really appreciate that. I’m gonna do that- go out now, I mean. I don’t think I’ve sat outside or met new regular people in… quite a while now.”

 

“It’ll do you the world of good.” She bopped you affectionately on the shoulder as she made for the door. “Have a good time tonight, hon. And you know… don’t forget to enjoy the show first, too, yeah?” 

 

Another flash of that animal grin over her shoulder, and the ghoul-girl was gone, leaving you slightly red-faced and perched on the edge of that very big, luxurious bed.

 

***

 

There may as well have been nothing else in the hall except you, and him, and the wall of sound. His eyes returned to you so many times you lost count as he took in and tormented his adoring audience, stark in their black sockets. The white one caught the stage lights like a prism and reflected them back at you; ocean-blue, green, yellow, royal purple. Heavy-lidded as he draped his sleek black-clad form over the risers and purred his way through the night above the sound of the crowd, it shone devil-red and roved over you, even through the pouring smoke. His teasing hand drifted just out of your reach once or twice- the goddamn barrier may as well have been the Grand Canyon. The sharpness and focus of his eyes assured you that he was frustrated at the continued enforced detachment too, but he was also a tease by nature, and couldn’t quite conceal a smirk behind the mic at your reaching hand. In your mind you swore to scold him for it, knowing even as you thought it that the notion would melt away as soon as you laid eyes on him again afterwards. 

 

And if your enthusiastic reaching out gave one of the photographers positioned between stage and barrier a light slap upside the head a couple of times, well, he was the one who’d signed up to shoot a rock show; he’d live to tell the tale.

 

The interval was a welcome break for most of the people packed in around you as they sipped gratefully on water and chattered back and forth, but you mostly just felt the impatience and nerves returning. You crouched slightly in the tight-packed crowd to adjust the merch bag pinned between your shoes and the barrier, and brushed a finger over the soft petals of the spur-of-the-moment gift concealed inside which you’d begged the visiting Sister to pop out and fetch for you the day before- a single white, thornless rose, just caught in new bloom.

 

You’d toyed with the idea for a long time- since that long letter forewarning you of the ritual date and confirming the tension you’d felt in his gaze as his attendants bundled you both into the car and away from the record store signing, in fact. But was it too much, in front of everyone like this? Would it be a distraction? Was it just… silly? You considered stuffing the thing back into your bag, maybe bringing it out later instead, in private, maybe not.

 

But no- fuck it. Fuck it. The buzz in the ornate hall, the warmth, the love, was infectious, and filled you with sincerity, and confidence. So everybody else would see; that was just damn fine, and what was even better was that nobody else would be in on the secret of how much more it was that passed between you than a sweet fan’s token. You were fucking free, damn it, and if you didn’t start living that truth right the hell now, when the hell would you?

 

That mantra was the last thing you thought before the lights sank low again and it was the thing that echoed in your mind the whole time until the moment came and you reached your hand out. The barrier seemed to go on for a hundred miles, your shoulder aching from the reach, but there was no way he was going to let you pull back crestfallen. His fingers were well short of your hand when he managed to pluck the rose from your grasp, but the anticipation and depth in his wide, light-catching eyes as he pressed your gift to his lips and then his heart was so vivid and shone so directly towards you, he may as well have been pressing your hand to them.

 

One more look of promise.  

 

***

 

While it went on, it felt like your whole life had been spent in this hot, dark, sound-enveloped hall, and like it would never end. The second it stopped, it seemed to have happened a million years ago. The lifting lights seemed to take the whole hall out of a trance, but not one it wanted to leave. While everyone around checked in excitedly with the friends new and old they’d gathered around them, or rubbed their eyes and brushed their hands over their confetti-dusted hair as though waking from a vivid dream, you stayed fixed on the last point you saw him vanish into backstage, willing the distance away.

 

_ What now _ ? You questioned internally. It would take some time for the audience to drain away and leave you a path to any of the doors, being front and centre, but where then? As you wondered, you felt a hand tap your shoulder lightly. There was a man in front of you that you hadn’t even noticed walk up.

 

This guy wasn’t beefy and dressed in yellow polo shirts like the other venue security, but slender and well-groomed in all black, with a leather jacket and some kind of pass slung over one shoulder. “Around the front please, Miss,” he instructed in a lilting accent, gesturing for you to come around to the side of the barrier. “This way for VIP.” And he smiled knowingly.

 

You had realised long ago that quite a few people in the Church had to be privy to your situation to carry out your retrieval tonight, but there were a hell of a lot of people smiling knowingly at you today, and it was getting a little awkward. His eyes were kind, though, and he waited patiently for you to be able to make your way round, even though you wanted to just scramble over the barrier and to hell with anyone who noticed.

 

The room he lead you to was a symphony of controlled chaos, a dozen men rattling amps onto rolling trolleys and coiling cables. In the middle of it all was the Cardinal, making a fuss of how his mic stands were handled, until the sound of the opening door caught everyone’s attention- to say nothing of the two ghouls at the back of the room who were loading their guitars into a rack, who shuddered in alarm and forced the grey out of their skin and their tails to shrivel away under their shirt backs at the unknown arrival.

 

“Ah!”

 

If he had meant to say something a little more suave and ceremonial, it was lost in the moment. He bolted to you and grabbed both your hands, opening his mouth again but finding himself lost for words, instead pulling you against him in a tight embrace. As you returned his tight squeeze he whispered your name again and again while he fidgeted back on his heels, almost turning you on the spot.

 

“Hi,” you said softly against his ear. Over his shoulder, you could see the crewmembers not quite staring and gossipping, but certainly exchanging glances. Observing your lack of abject terror at their presence, the ghouls shrugged at one another and let their horns and tails burst back out.

 

“Have you been safe? Comfortable? Yes?” He seemed a little rushed and anxious when he leaned back, reluctant to let you out of his arms, then got a hold of himself and his look of awe eased to something more relaxed and cheeky. “Did you enjoy my show, huh?”

 

“Yes, and yes, and it was incredible, yes.” You laughed, and didn’t really know why. You were loosely aware that the crew were stealing glances at the pair of you, harmless but curious. “You were all incredible.” You said that loud enough for the others to hear, and smiled at the way the guitar ghouls seemed to puff up a bit at that and let out one or two upbeat chirrups as they got back to work.

 

“All I want is to sign you safely into our hotel and... celebrate your freedom.” His piercing eyes went serious again, but this time they were heavier-lidded. “Would you like to do that?”

 

Your skin tingled with warmth, every inch feeling seen and fixed by his gaze. “I would  _ love  _ to.”

 

***

 

It was the same car as had collected you, but a different driver. It was the smallest hop between the venue and the hotel, but he clung to your hand the whole way regardless. “Do you like the room?” He asked hopefully, his thumb rubbing the back of your hand incessantly. “I left strict instructions for the arrangements. Only the finest suite.”

 

“It’s gorgeous,” you agreed, barely able to blink under his wide-eyed mismatched gaze. “I’ve never stayed anywhere like it. And your other driver was so sweet.”

 

“Good,” he looked proud and content at that. “As soon as we get home, I will make sure you are familiar with all of my personal assistants. Many of them may be juniors, but they are the most trustworthy people I have found, hand-selected for their service.”

 

The car glided right up to the hotel entrance, and his arm did not unlink from yours from when he helped you out of the back seat until the lobby elevator responded to his tap of the call button. You felt his hands come to rest on your hips as he shepherded you into the lift. You were just reaching back... when the doors clattered open again, and the valet from earlier joined you both with a brisk nod. You sprang apart, embarrassed, but you glanced at each other behind his head all the way on the arduous journey up, stifling pink-cheeked laughter. 

 

His hand slid into yours as the elevator came to a halt, and he lead you out down the corridor. As you walked behind him, the crystal-bedecked lights sensed your motion and glimmered into life, one by one, like magic.

 

As soon as he ushered you in and pulled the door shut behind him, he didn’t even pause to turn the light on. He pulled you back to him for a hungry, open-mouth kiss, one hand barely brushing your cheek and the other pressing into the small of your back, rubbing circles over your spine.

 

“I know this must feel all so fast after only letters for weeks,” he said softly in the darkness. “You must be very tired. I wouldn’t be hurt if you would rather just… rest, and not pursue… this… until you find your feet in your new home.”

 

It was achingly sweet of him. A sensible woman would probably have taken him up on that suggestion. A woman with more caution and self-control would have thought ahead, thought of just how unsure you still were of what your life could end up becoming, of who this man and his shapeshifting creatures  _ were  _ beyond their flamboyant, generous ways and impulsive promise to get you out of… that place. She would have kept her body and mind at a distance from him, slept lightly, listened to the years of fear warning her,  _ keep your heart tense and tight, and stay ready to run. _

 

You’d had enough fear to last a lifetime. 

 

“Come to this bed with me,” you whispered into his ear, and felt his breath deepen against your cheek. 


	2. Chapter 2

You stepped over to the bed as he pushed the lock on the door tight and used the dial switch on the wall to pool warm mood lighting into the room. When he turned back you had shed the shoes and skirt with efficiency, and were pulling your top over your head and down your outstretched arms, forgoing the back zipper that would have taken it off slower but more neatly, and letting it drop to the side of the bed you’d pulled yourself onto. The soft silken sheets were cool against your bared legs as you sat back on your knees, smoothing back your hair, irreversibly exposed to him in the red lace set you had invested in as soon as you had this day marked in the calendar. Simple, almost sheer in places, just decorated with softly embroidered firey petals in the most essential spots.

 

“My love,” he said, and you could hear the growl beneath his breath. “In years of service to the Church around this world, and sometimes even in the liminal spaces just outside it, I have never seen anything quite so beautiful.“

 

The butterflies in your stomach and heart swirled at his tone. He reached the edge of the bed and started to lever himself on in front of you, his eyes softening from animal desire to almost overwhelmed affection. “You might be the only person who can understand how relieved I am that we can finally-  _ fuck! _ ”

 

His smooth sinking onto the bed turned into a sudden erratic skid to one side, the silken sheets offering his knee no purchase whatsoever. You had just a brief glimpse of his eyes going comically wide as he realised his error, just before he toppled sideways past the end of the bed with a thud.

 

“I’m fine!” His hands immediately reappeared, scrabbling at the sheets.You reached over and grabbed him by both arms, helping him haul himself up onto his knees. “I’m fine. That didn’t happen. You saw absolutely nothing,” he said firmly, wagging a finger at you. 

 

Too late. Your shoulders were shaking with barely contained laughter, which burst out at the sight of his indignant expression and mussed-up hair peeking over the side of the high bed- and you impulsively slid up beside him and took his face in both hands, pressing a warm kiss to his pouting mouth. He yielded immediately, lips parting, and his gloved hands came to rest on your bared thighs- a much more secure grip.

 

“I had meant to say, how relieved I am that we can finally meet in safety for both of us,” he murmured against your mouth. “But, whatever works in the heat of the moment, no?”

 

Your smile ached your cheeks. How long had it been since you’d last smiled enough for that? “Just get back up here.”

 

This time he clambered up heavily on hands and knees, pulling you back with him until you came to lay side by side. His arms wrapped around your waist and you sank into them gratefully, pressing your lips to his and curling your arms up under his, caressing his shoulderblades, and your legs intertwined. “You’re way too dressed,” you whispered between his kisses, tugging at the back of his jacket. He allowed you to shed it for him and then his waistcoat as he kicked his shoes off the end of the bed, leaving him covered only by his thin black shirt and tailored trousers.

 

“Have you had a long wait for me, sweetheart?” He coiled his arms back around you, one hand sliding down to squeeze your behind. “I’ve had a long wait for you. Did you keep my letters?”

 

“All of them.” They were the first thing you’d put into your case, all tucked into one well-thumbed red envelope.

 

“Did you like the things I said?” His lazy smile and shimmering eyes were so boyish, even against the lines on his face. “Did they... inspire you? Mm?” His hand started to pull back over the curve of your hip, his fingertips walking along the edge of your underwear. “To... think of me?”

 

You breathed in sharply as his hand slithered down and came to cup you gently. His middle finger brushed ever so softly over your lips through the lace, and you bit back a noise.

 

“Did you think about this night while you were stuck alone all those days?” His voice was barely more than a whisper as his fingertips roamed. “Did it excite you? Make you want to… tease yourself… just like this?”

 

“Uh-huh.”

 

“And please your little pussy... thinking of the day I would be there for you, mm?”

 

“Yes,” you breathed out, encouraging his firmer rubs as much as answering his lustful questioning.

 

“I did, too,” he murmured warmly. “Maybe some nights… or days… we already managed to come together, huh?”

 

“Fuck, I hope so.” The mental image of him caressing himself made you shiver. Would he be in his touring bus bunk, hand over his mouth to stay quiet? Back in his living quarters, or better yet his office, unable to focus on his work, your name on his lips, his hand pumping away under his pristine red vestments?

 

His next kiss had force behind it, pressing you back until you found yourself rolling onto your back, his chest over yours, gentle weight and warmth. In this position your legs fell open easily, giving him fuller access to your lace-wrapped sex- and you could also slide a hand under him and press your palm to the bulge his tight black trousers clung to every inch of, so tight it was surely uncomfortable for him to get so hard in them. His eyes widened ever so slightly at your touch, then darkened again, his fingers finding new rhythms with renewed vigor.

 

For a little while, neither of you spoke outright; there was only the whisper of sheets and clothing fabric against gently moving bodies and mingled sighs. You gasped and felt your hips jerk involuntarily when he swiped his fingers up your belly and then dove back down, pushing past your waistband, leaving nothing between his firm, circling leather-clad fingers and your swollen clit. “Nice?” He asked in a feather-soft voice. The texture was butter-smooth on your sensitive skin- you whined a sweet sound and gave him an extra slow and tender squeeze, lost for words.

 

The hot, sleek leather working in fast, firm circles and the straining bulge of him in your hand worked fast- there was a telltale tingling growing in you deep below his hand; an electric little spark, a fuse with a fairly short end. “Baby,” you gasped, grasping at his shirtsleeve with your free hand, “I’m- you’re gonna make me come soon-”

 

“You want my fingers?” His voice was thick and indistinct, buried against your jawline.

 

“I want you to fuck me,” you rasped through gritted teeth, barely holding back as his tongue laved a warm trail down the side of your neck. “I want you to  _ feel  _ it.”   

 

He drew fully away with a gruff, pleased sound, tugging briefly at a patch of shoulder skin with those sharp teeth as he pulled back and sat up. Still breathing heavily, you propped yourself up on your elbows to watch him as he tore urgently at his shirt buttons and trouser zipper with slippery gloves. He pawed the fabric aside- and of course he wasn’t wearing anything underneath. The pink blush of need spread out from his impressive freed cock, down his broad thighs, and up his navel under the trail of dark, downy hair on his belly. You tried not to look away even for a moment as you shimmied down the clingy scrap of red lace, kicking them away into the half-light.

 

Immediately he fell to his hands and knees over you, not even bothering to shrug his open shirt off, and pressed his thick, handsome shaft between his belly and your folds. His hips rolled as he set to your neck again with his mouth; his teeth grazed your throat as the head of his cock pushed and stroked over your clit; far less controlled than his fingers but far harder, hotter, and slick with your combined arousal. Your hands went to slide between you, hungry to feel his heat in your palm, but he caught them and pulled them back up, his leather-clad fingers interlacing with yours and his thumbs circling your inner wrists in synch, pinning them either side of your head to the silky sheets. You whimpered and writhed underneath him, smothered in the heat and scent of him.

 

“What does my darling want?”

 

“Fuck me,” you gasped immediately, squeezing his hands, rocking against him, trying to torment his hard length into action. “Put your cock in me,  _ now _ .”

 

He barely smothered a short sharp laugh at your harsh tone, and with one hand darting back to his base for a moment to redirect himself, rolled his hips until you felt him gently stretch your entrance and pause halfway. “Does that feel alrig-”

 

“ _ All _ the way,” you demanded through clenched teeth, more than ready for him, nails pinching at his lower back to encourage him to exert himself.

 

He didn’t need telling twice. Startled into action, he shoved hard and bottomed out, growling low as you gasped at receiving the full heft of him. “You are… a bossy little thing,” he breathed, his odd eyes refocusing through the enjoyment and boring into yours once more as you adjusted. His right hand began to slide up to your neck, thumb caressing your pulse point. “Are you a bossy girl, baby?”

 

His low, foreboding tone, with the barely-concealed twitch of a smirk on his lips and the full pressure of his cock completely melted your urgency. “No, no,” you assured him, softening, yielding your neck to his idly stroking hand. “I just- I need you so bad...”

 

“Is this…” he crawled his free hand along your thigh, grasping your knee and pushing your legs further open as he rolled his hips once, “deep enough for you?”

 

“Oh, yes,” you whined, arching into him. His stroking hand made its way up the side of your throat and into your hair, and he leaned down and nipped at your mouth, tugging your lip forward and your head back. He started to pace out a rhythm as he alternated between deep kisses and gentle tugging bites, his hips rolling with all the promise he liked to show off and tease with onstage and much more besides. He purred with satisfaction every time his ministrations pulled a sound from you.

 

“Does it feel as good to finally have me as it does for me to have you, baby?” He murmured. “You’re so… so soft and beautiful, mmh, I shouldn’t have made us wait so long.”

 

“So good, so  _ fucking  _ good,” you nodded frantically, pushing back to meet him as much as possible. “Ohhh, I need more, don’t stop-“ 

 

“Oh, you want me to fuck you harder, greedy girl?” He bared his teeth in a strained, hungry grin. “You want me to fuck this… greedy, wet little pussy  _ harder  _ and  _ faster _ ?”

 

“ _ Please _ .”

 

He gave one last sharp tug at the nape of your neck before he reared back up between your legs and grasped each one behind the knee, pushing himself forward as he held them apart again. With a low groan he started to thrust again at a different angle, faster and rougher, hands gliding now and again to stroke around your thighs. When you unconsciously went to wrap them around his hips, one gloved hand delivered a little cautionary slap to the underside of your thigh, making you squeak and stay still.

 

“What a pretty sound.” He landed another impulsive slap on the flesh of your backside and snickered openly at the way you yelped and squirmed. “So sweet. My baby girl likes it a little rough, huh?”

 

“Mmhmm...”

 

“She likes to be spanked? Like a naughty girl?” He nodded at your affirmative moans.  “Mmhm.” He closed his eyes momentarily, savouring his pleasure with a lick of his lips, his black makeup stark and gaunt. “You know, when I have you safely home with  me ... I’m gonna make sure I take you in every way, in every position, in every room of  _ my  _ Ministry,” he took a deep, shuddering breath, “until anyone who dares come near us knows you’re  _ mine _ . And when it’s time to have you confirmed, I will personally perform the ceremony for your soul-“ his hands tightened on your soft skin, “-and then pleasure your body over the high altar, long and well, and smack your little ass until you need to be carried back to your quarters. You’d like that? No?“

 

His sweet, unclean words sent trembles up your back and through your spread thighs. Your moans and gasps overlapped with his voice, stepping up into higher whimpers as you started to feel that deep sparking feeling building back up inside. You grasped urgently at the silky bedsheets.

 

“Are you going to come for me now, sweetness? Just from the thought of it?” He picked his pace up ever so slightly, his honeyed voice helping the rush catch up to you; the realisation of weeks of waiting and wanting and imagining. “Let yourself go now, there’s nothing to worry about any more, no need to feel unsafe, to be on guard… let me take you there. Oh, fuck, your pussy is just… dripping for me, and it feels so- ahh-” 

 

Even he was taken aback for a moment, but just a moment, by the force of your orgasm, and the sudden rush of your wetness painting his cock that accompanied it. Even through the stars you saw and the mindless cries of relief that tore out of you, your cheeks burned with embarrassment, but the possessive, animal growl that rumbled in his chest and the redoubled snap of his hips only worked your rippling walls harder and spread the pulses of slickness between you. 

 

“Ohh, that’s beautiful, baby… let me see you ruin these fancy sheets for me.” 

 

Your squeals gave out as you started coming down from the initial peak, but his words and his unfaltering pace still pulled more low, luxurious moans from your mouth. His own breath started to come in quick sharp gasps as he looked down, mesmerised by the mess between you both and down your thighs and up his belly, lost in the sight and sound and musky scent of your release.  _ Fuck _ , you were building up  _ again _ from his faster and harder strokes- and so was he, clamouring to keep your legs pinned wide open, slick hands pulling your hips to meet him roughly. He moaned something indistinct, and it took you a moment to realise through the haze of pleasure ramping back up inside you that he was sliding into some other language. It was his face as he shuddered and started to spend himself that sent you over the edge for the secondl time, through; his dark, deep eyes fluttering and rolling beneath the heavy makeup, his determined snarl dying to a sweet overworked croon of relief as he ground against you as deeply as possible. Your throat felt too hoarse to cry out any more, but you made sure he felt your second climax anyway, letting your hips rock out of control on him, squeezing him until his voice cracked.

 

As soon as he let your legs go and started to collapse, they instinctively wrapped around him, keeping him close, and your hands pushed into his messy hair as he came to rest on your chest, pressing his mouth to yours. He still moved a little against you as you kissed and began to relax from the surge, the sounds of his last few slow, shallow thrusts and withdrawal obscenely loud.

 

“You are… perfect,” he panted against your cheek when you parted slightly, “and so good- my good girl, I wish I could sleep the night away right now, so the morning would come right now, and I wouldn’t have to wait another second to take you away with me-”

 

You felt your eyes suddenly watering, overwhelmed in the moment. The aftershocks of so much teasing and two deep orgasms, the smooth rambling passion of his praises, at odds with the nervous sense of change and uncertainty and fear of it all being too good to be true that had been lurking in the back of your throat all day- it was all a little much.

 

“Are you alright, sweetheart?” His brows immediately knitted into an anxious expression, and he propped himself back up over you, glancing up and down your body for any sign of something amiss. “Did I do something? What did I do?”

 

“Of course not,” you laughed weakly at his sudden nervousness, pulling him back against you. “I’m just… that was so  _ right  _ and nobody’s been that good to me for a long time and I can’t believe I’ve been this fucking  _ lucky _ , is all.”

 

“We both have,” he said softly, his tensed shoulders relaxing in your embrace. After a moment he ventured a little further, his voice hesitant, gentle. “Are you… also nervous about coming home tomorrow, perhaps?”

 

“Maybe a little bit,” you admitted, feeling how your heart seemed to squeeze in on itself at the word  _ home _ . “I just hope everyone there actually… y’know, likes me.”

 

“There isn’t a person worthy of my Ministry who wouldn’t,” he said firmly.

 

“There’s a bit of me that still can’t believe we’re here like this. That that just happened. I just… can’t quite relax yet, even now,” you continued, as much to yourself as to him. “It’s frustrating. I just… want to feel completely the way I should, right now, after… that. I just got a little bit overwhelmed for a second.” You scratched lightly at the nape of his neck to reassure you both, like petting a cat. “I’m fine now I’ve said it. I promise.”

 

“It’s natural, after what you’ve been through, to be a little afraid of the big wide world, even when it gives good things,“ he said softly, nuzzling the top of your head, pressing an innocent, reassuring kiss to your temple. “No wounds heal in just one night. Your journey has just begun. And I promise too, that feeling safe and sure of yourself, it will come with time.” You felt him smile knowingly then, his soft dark lips quirking mischievously against your scalp. “And I intend to make sure it comes  _ soon _ , and then again, often, as many times as possible.”


End file.
